


Fire and Smoke

by liveonanon



Series: Salt Skin [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Animal Abuse, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:57:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liveonanon/pseuds/liveonanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akashi had a pet kitten once (and now he doesn't).  Kagami comes to Japan at Akashi's behest and stays at his house in Kyoto.  There isn't anything to connect these two felines save, of course, they both happened to Akashi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire and Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Rebound](http://archiveofourown.org/works/680621). Written what, three days after? At this point I consider myself well and truly bitten by the AkaKaga bug. Title of the series is from Ellie Goulding's [Salt Skin](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKzgZUYHlU8).

Fire and Smoke (2013.01.25)

 

When he was young, he had a cat. A kitten, to be exact.

His mother had bought it half in hopes that his classmates would stop being so creeped out when they came over for playdates, and half so she could show off to the rest of the mothers how considerate a parent she was. The second reason was why Akashi shunned it for the first entire first month, hinting not-so-obviously that his mother should take it back to wherever it came from.

But the kitten, whether it really was sensitive to his dislike and sought to ignore it by all means possible, or whether it had recognized some core loneliness in a fellow higher being, never ceased to look for him. Akashi could hide in the mansion's many closets, pantries, bookshelves, rooftops, desks and bushes, yet sooner or later, he would hear the plaintative meow from below and the inevitable sound of scratching as the kitten attempted to climb up to wherever he was.

When it came upon him in the sitting room it always made a beeline for his lap. His parents (well, his mother at any rate) would coo as it settled on his legs after turning (always clockwise) and kneading his school trousers a bit. He hated all of it; his mother, her chatter never reaching his father's ears, his father next to her, nose buried in the paper, and him with the cat on the floor. He had always felt that he didn't belong, not in his mother's fairy tale life, not in his father's stock reports. He was alien, like the kitten who came back bleeding and scratched through the rosebushes yet always sought him out.

One day his mother was calling him, her voice ringing off of the walls. He could remember it was sunny, and warm in the closet. He didn't want to see her, not when he had gotten his first bruises from the same kids who had smiled at her. He could even remember smiling slowly in the closet. The sunlight was a knife edge of yellow against the wood.

The kitten meowed and he didn't even blink, didn't change expression. He slid out of the closet and shut it inside. Three days later a servant screamed when she found it dead.

His mother had sobbed as its ashes rose to the sky. _Poor thing_ , she wailed. _Poor little thing._ She fired three servants for locking the cat away and the whole time Akashi stood to the side, smiling.

\-----------

It took Kagami less than a week to get used to his new lifestyle: the sweltering heat of his jinbei, the way the servants laid out their sandals when they went out, the house car they took everywhere. He said nothing, and let Akashi shuttle him here and there. _This place is famous for its soba_ , Akashi would say, and automatically Kagami would put the food in his mouth and nod. _And this place for its mitarashi dango. And this place for its spectacular view._

Kagami only continued to nod.

Akashi wasn't stupid. Change would not happen in a day, or even in a week. Or never. What Akashi was, was old-fashioned. He would keep waiting, until Kagami couldn't live, couldn't even breathe without thinking of him.

He pitied Kuroko for his charisma. All of those people who wanted to be by him, Akashi included. But Kuroko could only choose one, had chosen one, and he had to leave the rest unsatisfied.

Kuroko had chosen unwisely.

It was true that Akashi was not swayed easily. But he did value flexibility, and unlike his father, he always listened. Listened and thought. Listened and didn't even have to wonder because the truth was there in Kagami's voice - yearning, pleading, hungry for attention. To him every moment with Kuroko was a gifted jewel and Akashi knew he would always be up there, shining down from their pedestal, bedazzling Kagami with his light.

_Light._ A fitting match for a shadow.

Akashi was not such. Not even close. If he was a light, he would be the one that never stayed long enough for someone to pinpoint where he was. But if one could predict how he would move - he remembered that match when the heat, the bulk of Kagami's body blocked him in maddening synchronization. Akashi had thrown the last shreds of his control away and leaped without looking towards himself. For himself.

it was not love, and Akashi could not be sure that what he felt now was. Only that it was consuming and greedy, like flood waters moving up a hill. In the beginning, when Kagami was only taping his hands on their college team, humming low and growling under his breath, Akashi's heart had done no quick pitter-pat. His hands had remained cool as they always were. His feet hadn't twitched in response to being touched so carefully.

Yet.

There was a quality about sex with Kagami that always made him think of touching a live flame. Kagami put everything into who he was in that moment, whether it was Kuroko or Aomine or Akashi. That meant that Akashi could only collect the time that wasn't claimed by any other person. Thankfully, Kagami was quite open to being monopolized.

Akashi could not help himself, not when Kagami moved to touch his face, his neck, his cock. He could not help but bend and sway and lean like some filthy whore to the music of Kagami's hands, cupped firmly on his ass. Like the kitten, he had recognized a need, and made a beeline to assuage it every single time.

That was what their nights were for. But now that Kagami was in Japan, Akashi's days were taken over too. He found that sudden flash of interest when Kagami saw the dango shop held lessons. He told the servants to clear a corner of the kitchen for Kagami to experiment. Most of the time it was palatable, even delicious. Other times Akashi had to reassure himself that there was no possible concoction in the world that could kill precious brain cells, though sometimes it seemed whatever Kagami made did its best to do just that.

It was one of those times that Kagami laughed. Not guffaw like he did with Aomine before Kuroko moved out. A real little huff of amusement as he turned away, covering his mouth. The red quality of his eyes winked at Akashi from the teacup he held. 

Akashi stilled his face. His hands fell to the table, and he stopped the minute twinges of his knees in seiza position. But his heart still flip-flopped all over the place as he stared ahead. Kagami got up and Akashi's ears twitched to hear him washing their dishes. He hummed an American song low under his breath, and swayed those hips that Akashi had mapped so many times in the dark.

Was it hot or chill that slid down his throat in moments like this? Something burned in its wake when he swallowed. His traitorous mind replayed large hands stroking his hair, half-lidded eyes drinking him in, the movement of Kagami's lips counting something in his head. The sudden flush of skin-warmth when he came arching into Akashi's arms, lust gone supernova.

What had he done, he wondered suddenly. Invited a warm creature inside to share his house, his room, his bed. Kagami, who had lost all but his body including his soul and that, that was what Akashi saw every time he opened his eyes in the morning - strength without purpose, generosity without direction. Well, Akashi could and would make use of that.

As Kagami slid a rectangular tray of dango towards him, Akashi paused. Just who was monopolizing who now? He bit into the dango and they were perfect, just the way he liked them.

Kagami was watching him. He looked satisfied, though Akashi was sure nothing showed on his face. Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised - it took three years for the Teikou regulars to be able to read him, but in the end they could - that Kagami's learning curve was so high. He had proved such long ago, after all, and humans were nothing if not easily adaptable to new environments.

The skewer cleaned of sweets and the dish drying on the rack, again he didn't think, just put his hand on Kagami's neck. Akashi knew enough about human bodies to know where to press so it would send Kagami into a lifeless heap.

Kagami leaned into his hand and moved his cheek against his palm. Akashi allowed it, like he allowed the shift, just like he allowed the teeth nibbling the tips of his fingers, the tongue that sluiced up and down his knuckles. It stayed there for a beat too long, right at the junction, so that Akashi felt hot and itchy in a way that had nothing to do with the weather.

His eyes snapped back to Kagami's face and read matching desire. They didn't have to wait, not when his father was away and the servants would say nothing. He sat on the kitchen counter, moved his yukata back, and stripped off his boxers. There on the spotless granite among Kagami's spice bottles and salts, he let Kagami's tongue do the same to his toes, knees, legs and then the crack of his ass.

He never knew what to say. Kagami never called Kuroko's name, though Akashi knew from the guilt in his eyes that he envisioned him, sometimes. In the beginning Akashi always felt curiously unattached to the action, but as the minutes ticked away he felt Kagami drag his attention back. So many talents perfected under Akashi's guidance.

No Kuroko, so Akashi. No previous experience, so bareback. No words so they gasped and grasped and in Akashi's case, kicked the faucet on when he twitched. Kagami didn't shut it off, just flicked it out of the way so it started to flood the counter on the other side. Akashi could hear the click and clatter of bottles moving.

He tried it once and it was good. "Taiga," he sighed, and red-hot hands squeezed his hips. He was on fire inside and it was all Kagami's fault. He said it again: "Taiga. Taiga. Taiga."

"You," Kagami groaned and Akashi's heels locked together to keep that thick organ exactly where it was. This way he felt every shudder, every last drop spilled inside. _What was belonging_ , he wondered as Kagami's hand stroked him dry. _What does it mean to belong. Where do I belong._

He remembered in the cat in the closet. He wondered what it thought of in its last hungry hours. Maybe if Kagami was the cat he would have found a way out and a new master. But Akashi - Akashi was loathe to relinquish the place he had recognized as his.

"Yes," he croaked out one last time. His voice was hoarse from shouting and his ankles ached. Kagami had come but was still half-hard inside of him. Akashi squeezed him around his shoulders and felt himself curled tighter in return. His heart beat like the roar of cannons in his ears and when Kagami's thumb stroked one of the bruises on his hip, he couldn't even catch his breath before the plunge.

He thought of people in distant lands that made Kagami stare out into the distance. His throat clenched around the feelings and words that welled up in him. 

He still could not think of anything to say.


End file.
